


The Loving Game

by scifiromance



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Action/Adventure, Drama, F/M, Family, Friends to Lovers, Parents & Children, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-12-31
Updated: 2014-02-24
Packaged: 2017-11-23 02:47:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/617242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scifiromance/pseuds/scifiromance
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What could've been the repercussions of Seven and Chakotay's holographic personas in "The Killing Game" knew each other? A re-write of the show from "The Killing Game" onwards, if you've ever wished that C/7 could've got together earlier you'll like this!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**A/n: This first chapter is set entirely within the World War II simulation. I’ve taken some liberties with the scenes taken from the episode and changed event order to suit the plot. Captain Janeway is Katrine, Seven is Mademoiselle De Neuf, Chakotay is a US Army Captain, Tom is a Lieutenant, B’Elanna is Brigitte, Tuvok is the bartender and Neelix is the courier.**

“But Colonel have you ever considered that St Clare just may not have any resistance? I don’t see why I should have to…” The tall dark man in a captain’s uniform stared at his commanding officer in disbelief.

The young normally jovial Lieutenant beside him interrupted looking directly at the Colonel behind his desk. “They’ll be there. I spent a summer in St Clare in ’36, they’re proud of their city, would do anything to defend it.”

The Captain snorted. “Let me guess you think you’re an expert after eating some snails and falling in love with a French girl…”

The Lieutenant flushed, “Well, yeah but…”

“It doesn’t matter Captain, you’re going. We got a message from the French Underground saying one of their most loyal people is stationed within a cell in the city. This operative is in munitions, quite militant apparently, you’re to go and meet up with this person and exchange information.” When the Colonel saw the Captain’s pensive expression he clarified, “I chose you for a reason, you’re fluent in French, familiar with the country, for God’s sake you were reprimanded by the State Department for aiding the Resistance while we were still neutral! Whatever happens we’re invading Tuesday at first light but I’d prefer to know the lay of the land.”

The Captain sighed in resignation. “Yes, sir.”

“Good.” The Colonel replied, throwing a scrap of paper in his direction as he did so. “You’ve to be at the side door of an establishment called La Coeur de Lion at precisely 0300 hours, no sooner no later. Pick up civilian clothes on the way out and we’ll sneak you to the boundary as night falls, understood?”

“Understood.” He replied stoically, taking the stack of clothes from the staff officer and abruptly left the tent and headed for his own, the Lieutenant following him inside.

“You’ve helped the Resistance?” He asked curiously, shoulders tense.

The Captain pulled the simple cotton shirt over his head with an irritated sigh. “I was a diplomatic attaché in Marseilles before we declared war.”

“And then you came back to fight them?”

“One thing living under occupation taught me is that I hate Nazis and collaborators. Now if you’ll excuse me Lieutenant, I have to catch my ride…”

“No…wait!” exclaimed the Lieutenant awkwardly. “When you’re there, can you keep an eye out for…”

“Your French girl?” He finished, eyebrows raised as the Lieutenant nodded shamefacedly. “What’s her name?”

“Brigitte. 19th of August 1936, 1247 pm, that’s when my train pulled out of St Clare, the last time I saw her face… We wrote one letter a week for three years but then the war started.” He pulled out a frayed photograph and pushed it into his hands.

The Captain glanced down at the well thumbed photograph. Pretty girl but such romances led to trouble, he knew that from experience but he could also tell from the light in the man’s face that it would be pointless to tell him to forget her. Almost as pointless as telling him to forget the woman who had given himself the experience. With a sigh he handed back the photograph. “No promises but I’ll take a look.” He put a brotherly hand on the younger man’s shoulder. “Hey, St Clare is a small place for all we know you’ll find her when we liberate it.”

“I hope so. Good Luck Captain.”

“I’ll need it.”

* * *

 

He lowered the jacket from around his head as he saw warm gold light reflect back on the huge rain puddles and glanced to the right of the street to look for the source. It was his destination, proudly announced on a gaudy red and gold sign, La Coeur de Lion. It looked poky and run down by his American standards but it was obviously packed, radiating light and warmth through its open door, the shadows of Nazi uniforms visible through the windows. An operative wanted to meet here? He once again checked the inside of his jacket for his pistol, still secure. It was just turning midnight, he’d better find a place to lay low… A sweet sound wafting from the restaurant made his heart flip over, no it couldn’t be her! There were many women who could sing like that in France, he reasoned, and besides she was still in Marseilles no doubt still fulfilling her “assignment” with that scum Borges. He cursed his own sentimentality even as his ears strained to hear the notes and lyrics before smiling dryly, Moonlight Becomes You, she’d never liked that song much.

* * *

 

The last note vibrated in her throat and left her lips, the crowd going into mild applause as she stepped back from the microphone. “Merci.” She said with that slight stage smile she had perfected over the years. “Please be kind to Carl, without his music my voice is empty.” She continued, gesturing to her accompanist before stepping off the stage and retreating to the bar, taking a long sip of her customary glass of water before she became aware of a cold clammy hand on her forearm and its owner openly leering at her.

“Continue.” She frowned at him with cold eyes. There was no way she was tolerating this.

“I am finished. Come back tomorrow.” She stated icily, as forceful as him.

“No, now!” He snarled, his strangely strong hand beginning a slow crush of her arm.

The diminutive but commanding figure of Katrine glided over, a pacifying expression pasted over her features as she encouraged the man’s hand to loosen its grip. “I’m sure Mademoiselle De Neuf would be happy to oblige us with another song.” She remarked smoothly.

“No Madame…” De Neuf started through gritted teeth but Katrine frowned challengingly at her and she bit the words back, shooting Katrine a vicious glare through narrowed eyes before in a sharp click of heels she turned swiftly back to the stage.

* * *

 

“How’d we do?” asked Katrine asked De Neuf as she counted out the night’s takings under the watchful eye of the bartender.

“Insufficient for a Saturday night. 1247 francs and 81 marks.” She replied.

“It’ll do, we need a new oscillator for the radio. I want you to go to Benoit’s farm at dawn tomorrow and try and get one for three hundred francs, don’t go any higher than five hundred.”

De Neuf stared at her in disbelief. “For that I could purchase an armoured grenade launcher and take out some of those Panzer divisions which are keeping the Americans out!”

“What are you going to do, blow up a tank?” asked Katrine incredulously.

De Neuf didn’t back down. “If necessary.” She responded coldly.

“Do you want to blow our cover or be killed? I’m the leader of this cell and I implement the plans, is that clear?”

“Perfectly!” She spat out, turning her back on them, yanking the door to her little room backstage open and slamming it shut behind her.

The bartender who had observed all this commented, “This cannot keep happening. She is too argumentative, disrupting the whole operation.”

“She’s headstrong, the ones from the Underground are like that but we need her, she’s the only munitions expert within a hundred miles _and_ she can hold a tune.”

“Be that as it may her behaviour is suspicious.”

“Put a watch on her and if she is a spy we’ll have to have her eliminated.”

At those words De Neuf lifted her ear away from the door and stepped further into the small room. Living in a hot bed of Nazis and collaborators and they were worried about her, who had served longer in the Underground than either of them put together and had given up so much for it! Pulling a crate out from under her bed she removed the layer of sheet music it contained to reveal a small code machine the Underground in Marseilles had given her, if only the two outside knew she had been sent by members of the Underground who didn’t believe in Katrine’s form of “passive resistance.” She found the tiny roll of paper with her most recent decryption and carefully unfurled it to reread the instructions, American, 0300 hours, side door. The words imprinted on her mind she put the paper to a candle and watched it burn before sitting tensely on her bed to wait.

Eventually she heard Katrine and the bartender retreat to their apartments upstairs and she silently left the confines of the room and entered the bar, taking the key for the side door from its hook on the wall before settling down on her favourite barstool, scanning her face for imperfections on the reflective surface of the counter as she did so. She wasn’t sure why she had this drive for perfection, perhaps the habit had developed from having to hide the bruises inflicted during her last assignment. Brigitte didn’t realise that she was fortunate in bedding the Nazi, at least he didn’t beat her black and blue like Monsieur Borges, the French collaborator that had been her assignment had her. Still in a way it had been better, she wasn’t exactly a team player and as long as she had submitted to his control and forgot herself and her fear and disgust it had been tolerable… Who was she kidding? The only thing that had made her life liveable had been Charles, made her remember that she wasn’t only the Underground’s puppet and Borges’ plaything. He would have been horrified at such logic, he had told her frequently enough that she was institutionalised by violence…

The first chime of the clock as it struck three halted her fast flowing thoughts and picking up the key and her pistol from its hiding place behind the radiator she went to the door and unlocked it with a click, stepping back into the shadows with the gun poised at her side as it opened.

He pushed the door open gradually, edging in with his gun out in front of him, something moved in the shadows and without thinking he grabbed it just as a gas light flickered on. When he looked into the face of his captive the shock was like a kick to the stomach. “ _Annette_?” He choked as a pair of shocked blue eyes met his. “What the hell are you doing here?”

De Neuf just stared blankly into his face for a moment, struggling to regain her wits but acting quick as lightening when she did, wrenching her arm away from him. “ _I_ should be asking that Charles! Why are you here? You went home!”

“And volunteered as soon to come back to free Europe as soon as I did.”

She glared at him as the words sunk in. “That was reckless and idiotic of you.” She said with icy sharpness.

He laughed bitterly. “What’s the difference between us? You risk yourself for the Resistance every day!”

“I have no choice, no one can live freely until Europe is free of the scourge of Nazism.” He almost smiled, she hadn’t changed any, blowing hot and cold, detachedly rational and passionately determined at the same time. His mind flashed back to when he’d first met her, the mistress of the most Nazi loving diplomat in Marseilles, he hadn’t understood at the time how such a woman could stoop to such a man. When he’d asked too much he’d become embroiled in with the Resistance but by that time he was too in love with the beautiful isolated shell of a woman who had introduced him to it to be able to free himself.

“My colonel wasn’t joking when he said you were considered militant…” he began but Annette snapped, seizing a pad of paper covered in writing and throwing it at him.

“Here, take it and get out!” She hissed under her breath, turning her back on him entirely.

His whole tensed in anger. “Fine, push me away again, just answer one thing for me.”

If he wasn’t mistaken he saw her body start to shake. “What?” she whispered weakly.

“Why do you continue like this? It’s like the woman I knew disappeared when she refused to get on that train and leave with me…when you went back to that bastard who treated you worse than an animal in exchange for paltry bits of information...was it worth any of it? Did you ever feel anything for me or were you acting again?” His voice became a shout strangled by heartbreak and anger. “What about our baby, did it ever exist or was it his?”

De Neuf whirled back round, her first urge to slap him dissolving into tears. “How can you say that to me? I did it for you! Borges found out who I was…said if I didn’t send you away he’d kill you, American or not…I was then tortured by him until I miscarried and a doctor got me out of the house and back to the Underground…” She stared defiantly up at him with glistening eyes as he with grieving guilt filled dark eyes approached her but she stepped back. “I do all that to keep you alive and you willingly come back here to get yourself killed…” She sagged against the counter but he held her up, holding her against his chest as she sobbed outright.

“Shh, my love…I…I’m so sorry, forgive me…”

Driven by instinct and innumerable emotions she kissed him as she had done so many times, feeling relief wash over her as he responded.

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

Her eyelashes fluttered open to the feeble rays of first dawn shining down on her face. Sleepily her arm reached back to her nightstand and lifted the watch sitting there to her eye line, ten minutes to six. As this information sank in she automatically shifted to get up but a warm heavy weight coiled round her body stopped the movement and she tensed as the memories came flooding back before turning her head to gaze at the man who had helped in creating them. She smiled wryly as she relaxed back into his hold; there were some advantages to only having a single bed after all. He hasn’t changed much at all, she thought with contemplative fondness as she ran the back of her hand up and down his cheek. She watched as his eyes blinked open at the touch, a smile drifting across his face as his eyes drowsily met hers. “Annette…” he mumbled softly.

“Good morning.” She replied in a low whisper. He nodded against the pillow they shared, giving the hand that had been caressing his face a light peck before he focused on the watch in her other hand.

“What time is it?” he asked urgently, now fully awake.

“Almost six o’clock.” She answered with a sigh as his face tensed and he began to lift himself away from her.

“I’m getting picked up to return your information to base camp at seven.” He muttered worriedly but with a glance down at her pained face. “What honey?”

Annette swallowed the lump of tears in her throat but that didn’t stop them appearing at the corners of her eyes. “It’s too dangerous… you’ll die, please don’t go…” She pleaded, beginning to kiss along his jawbone to keep him with her.

He allowed the affection, their lips meeting in a deep kiss before he spoke again. “You’re always such a pessimist sweetheart…”

“I’m serious!” She sharply responded, pulling back from him.

He instantly regretted his shrugging off of her worries, kissing her neck and shoulders repeatedly as he tried to soothe, “I know, try not to worry…”

Annette tried to take his advice but she couldn’t shake the feeling that they wouldn’t be like this again. “Charles, do you hate me for what I did?”

Shaken by the grief and fear in the question, he grasped her shoulders and kissed her until they were both breathless before pulling back to answer. “Don’t _ever_ think that I don’t love you…” he paused for a moment as he thought about how to explain his complex feelings. “I was hurt, angered, by what happened…but I understand now and even at my worst I never hated you darling…”

“Good. I love you also.” She murmured but broke their kiss as she heard a creak emanating from the room above them. “Katrine is awake, you must go.” Hurriedly she swung her legs out of the bed and began to dress quickly.

Charles sat up in the bed and pulled his shirt on as he turned to look at her. “Are you in some trouble with this cell?”

“They find it difficult to trust me.” She stated coldly, her back turned to him.

“Do you trust them?” he asked pointedly, although he already knew the answer, Annette trusted no one except perhaps, he flattered himself, him.

She shot him a scathing yet affectionate look, carefully opening the room’s door as she did so and stepping out, scanning the bar for intruders. “It’s empty, come on.” Charles left the room knowing from the urgency in her voice that their time together wouldn’t last much longer. Unable to think of words as they approached the doorway all he could do was kiss her lovingly as he left her side and headed for the door but her voice stopped him in his tracks. “You forgot something Charles.” He turned to see her waving the pad of paper which held the information he’d come to get in the first place.

“You’re a lifesaver…” he began as she handed it to him, stopping his flow of words by kissing him again.

Looking directly into his face she murmured, “Don’t get killed.”

He ran his fingers through her hair. “I don’t intend to, as long as you do the same for me.”

“Agreed.” She whispered, reluctantly letting him go and opening the door out onto the street. “Until we meet again.” She murmured trying to be teasing but the emotion behind the statement was real.

“I’ll be waiting.” He replied softly, taking one last long look at her before stepping out into the street and rounding the corner, fighting the urge to look back as her eyes followed him.

* * *

 

Annette’s shoes clicked on the uneven cobbles as she weaved skilfully between the Nazis and bystanders in the crowded street, trying to focus on the bombs she would have to build that night but her mind refusing to wander far from the memories of the night before. Irritated by her lack of concentration on her task she quickened her gait before loud shouting across the street caught her attention. A man being roughed up by a particularly hot headed Nazi lieutenant, the man was strangely protective of his groceries…wait that was their courier! Gunshots suddenly rang out and the man ducked. Taking a hasty decision she pulled out her pistol and grabbed the man who whimpered in fright as she fired back and pulled him along at a run. He dropped the bottle of wine he was carrying and it shattered as a bullet hit it. “The message!” He cried out in horror.

“It doesn’t matter! Come on!” She shouted, firing another shot over her shoulder before fleeing blindly with the man at her side. A hot searing pain pierced her side and she turned into the nearest alley, realising too late that it was blocked off. The last thing she was aware of was the sickening sensation of a bullet grazing her skull and as she collapsed against the wall her last thought was that she hadn’t kept her promise with Charles.

* * *

 

Seven woke suddenly with a gasp, why was she in Sickbay? The Doctor placed a restraining hand on her arm. “Keep quiet and don’t move.” He ordered, “There’s a Hirogen on that biobed over there. What’s the last thing you remember?”

Seven’s brows furrowed with effort, everything was so…disjointed. “The Hirogen, they pierced the hull, boarded the ship…I was in a phaser fight on deck three…”

“That was three weeks ago. For the last nineteen days the crew has been trapped in violent holodeck simulations.” He injected her with a painkiller before continuing. “It’s my job to patch you all up and send you back. You should have seen what you were like after the Crusades…”

“Will I have to re-enter the simulation?”

“Yes…” The Doctor smiled slightly. “…but now you have an advantage.” Seven looked at him questioningly.

“I’ve adapted one of your implants to jam the neuro-transceiver blocking your memory centre.”

“Neuro-transceiver?”

“The Hirogens implanted them; basically they make you believe you are your character. It will only work for a few seconds after I send you back in, you have to find the holodeck transceiver and align it to accept commands from the bridge so we can release everyone else.”

“Understood. Where am I going?”

“World War II, a twentieth century Earth conflict. Do you know anything about it?”

“Nothing.” Seven replied apprehensively.

“That could complicate things. You won’t remember anything about your role in the simulation after the jamming signal kicks in. Just treat it as a new social setting, try to fit in.” Seven nodded slowly and the Doctor picked up a bio-needle. “I’m going to have to sedate you now.” The drug worked almost immediately and Seven slipped back into unconsciousness.

* * *

 

The next thing she knew was that she was staring down into a crowd of faces, some human, some Hirogen on some sort of stage. Gulping convulsively as she tried to recollect her thoughts, she forced herself to speak, “I…must discontinue this activity.” She choked out before descending to a structure she recognised as a bar and taking a huge gulp of water.

Suddenly the Captain, out of uniform and frowning deeply at her, appeared at her shoulder. “What are you doing? I promised the Commandant you’d sing until midnight and there’s more information I need to get from him…”

Seven cut her off, her voice tight. “I am ill.”

“I don’t care if you’re dying!” The Captain hissed, grabbing her arm roughly. “Get back up there!”

Seven freed her arm, knowing this woman who was and wasn’t the Captain wouldn’t accept that she had no idea what she was supposed to do. “I won’t.” She replied in as controlled a tone as she could muster, leaving hurriedly before she could stop her. Without thinking she fled to a small room which upon entering she felt a shiver run up her back, her cheeks growing strangely hot as her gaze fell on the unmade bed, she believed the humans would have called this feeling déjà vu. She shook her head vigorously in an attempt to rid herself of it; she had more important things to think about!

Katrine looked at her bartender questioningly who said what she was thinking. “Suspicious that on the eve of our liberation she becomes uncooperative.”

“You think she’s a spy?” Katrine asked in a whisper.

“She was with our courier yesterday in the shootout and comes away unharmed.”

Katrine thought for a moment. “You’re right. I’ll deal with her.”

Seven bent over the crude twentieth century devices, how these things could ever be rigged to explode she didn’t know but she made an attempt with whatever knowledge she had, which wasn’t much. The conversation she was half listening to stopped and the Captain, no, Katrine, leaned over her shoulder. “You haven’t connected the detonators, unless that’s what you intended.”

Seven fought a blush of embarrassment; she’d never been corrected by the Captain on a technical matter. “I will correct the error.”

“You’d better.” Seven hoped the activating of a weapon as she said that wasn’t a threat.

Seven looked around the room which was apparently the centre of Nazi headquarters. Katrine immediately began to look around, “Set the charges.” She ordered her as she began rifling through papers. Seven nodded, listening to Katrine’s horrified exclamations about troop movements as she searched around for an access panel. Carefully removing the panel she set methodically to work but then Katrine stepped over her. “You haven’t set the charges! What are you doing?”

Seven struggled for a moment to think of a plausible explanation. “I believe there is a Nazi transceiver in this wall, I am attempting to disable it.”

“Stop what you’re doing!” Katrine insisted.

“No.” Seven replied quickly as she activated the desired relay.

Hearing the sound Katrine pulled out her gun. “Move away or I’ll kill you.” Knowing her task was done Seven rose to her feet to find herself staring down the barrel of the Captain’s weapon. Come on, come back Captain… Still nothing. If I survive this I’m never going on the holodeck again.


	3. Chapter 3

The barrel of the twentieth century firearm was still directed at Seven’s face, the woman wielding the weapon wore an expression as chillingly cold as the metal of the gun itself, Seven could see that the hologram that possessed the Captain’s body hated her as her finger visibly increased pressure on the trigger and yet Seven was frozen to the spot, utterly unable to move. Please come back Captain, she mentally pleaded, that won’t do you any good, her mind reminded her, run!

Just as she was about to act on this thought, the Captain’s hand suddenly wavered and dropped slightly, her empty hand clasping her lowered head as she groaned in pain. Hope filled Seven but apprehension tempered her impulse to say anything and she remained where she was, still wary of the gun. Then the Captain’s eyes looked up at her, suddenly foggy with confusion and lingering pain. “Seven?” she asked in bemusement as she took in her protégé’s fearful body language, the unfamiliar surroundings and the old gun in her hand.

If Seven was anyone else she probably would have cried out in relief but as it was her shoulders dropped as she relaxed and she gave the Captain her customary inclination of the head and greeting, “Captain.”

* * *

 

Charles ran into St Clare’s city square, in his place at the head of his unit. As he shot a Nazi coming at him from his right he saw a large cream building he recognised from Annette’s eerily accurate recognisance drawings as Nazi headquarters. Motioning to the column behind to set down the heavy artillery he then saw a dark skinned man retreating back, rifle skilfully pointed at the rapidly encroaching Nazi soldiers, Charles’ memory suddenly kicked in to tell him that this was the bartender from La Coeur de Lion and almost certainly a member of Annette’s resistance cell. His eyes scanned the area for her in a moment of unprofessional desperation but she wasn’t there. As the bartender fell back even further Charles took the initiative and seized his shoulder. “Need some help?” He shouted over the din of the shellfire. The man whirled round, relief passing over his face for a spilt second at the sight of his American uniform before he nodded with surprising impassivity. Hurriedly extending his hand Charles introduced himself, “Captain Miller, 5th Armoured Infantry Division.”

The man gripped his had and looked directly into his face before saying with no trace of irony, “Welcome to St Clare.”

* * *

 

Thankfully Seven had just finished her concise explanation of the situation when the building gave a sinister shudder and an unbelievably loud bang rang in their ears. The Captain looked at her anxiously, “Didn’t you say this building was Nazi Headquarters?”

“Yes.” Seven replied.

“Then it would stand to reason this building’s being targeted, let’s get out of here!” Seven didn’t need to be told twice and they made their escape at a run, only just making it out onto the street as the building exploded, blasting into their backs and sending them both flying to the ground.

* * *

 

Charles felt relief at the building’s destruction turn into complete shock as his unbelieving eyes registered the huge gaping gash it left, seemingly even searching up to the sky, though that was impossible. He could see that its strange grey and silver contents stretched as far as the eye could see. “What the hell is that? Some sort of Nazi bunker?” he asked out loud.

“It would appear so.” The Resistance’s man replied in awe.

Charles grabbed his radio. “I need to call military intelligence…” All the radio gave him was static.

“We can use the radio at La Coeur de Lion.”

Charles glanced at the stranger and then back at the bunker, “Okay, thanks.” He looked back to his men, rapidly being overrun. “Fall back, follow me!” he ordered in a yell.

* * *

 

Seven recovered from the shock of the explosion first and twisted round to see the damage but the Captain spoke first in total horror. “What happened?”

“The explosion overloaded the emitters and ruptured the deck.”

“Can we escape that way?”

“I believe so.”

“Let’s go.” The Captain ordered, rising off her knees and heading straight for the dangerously electrified hole as the chaos of war continued on around them. As soon as they stepped through they were back in Voyager’s familiar corridors and the Captain immediately activated an access panel. “The Hirogen have been busy, there’s holoemitters on almost every deck! We have to get to Astrometrics!”

They double teamed the Hirogen standing guard at Astrometrics’ door and Seven immediately headed for her console, finding the process of running scans settling even in such unusual circumstances. “There are eighty five Hirogen on board, mostly concentrated on decks two through nine.”

“The Bridge?” The Captain asked urgently.

“Four Hirogen…and Ensign Kim.”

“Well at least he’s alive, but we’re going to need some help. Didn’t you say the transceivers are controlled through Sickbay?”

“Yes. There is only one Hirogen in Sickbay with the Doctor but it’s heavily guarded from the outside.”

The Captain sighed deeply. “We’re going to need help…”

Seven felt an idea hit her. “We had reliable allies in the simulation, the French Resistance.”

The Captain picked up her rifle and headed for the door. “It’s time we mount some resistance of our own.”

* * *

 

Charles leaned over the maps the bartender had spread over the table but still couldn’t see how this bunker could have been built. “We think it’s a secret compound the Germans built after the occupation of the city, what I don’t understand is how they managed to camouflage it so well.”

“Indeed, we have been watching German troop movements for months and never saw any indication of its existence.” The bartender commented, sounding ever so slightly irritated.

“Don’t sweat it, our recon didn’t see it either.” The lieutenant said, his voice directed at the bartender but his eyes firmly on Brigitte.

Deciding to distract his lieutenant from his new fascination Charles said, “Lieutenant, this restaurant is our new command post. Set up comm. lines and security, our orders are to blow up that compound.”

“Yes sir.” The lieutenant quickly replied but as he went to follow orders the heavily pregnant woman at his side spoke up.

“What can we do?” she asked.

“You’ve done a great job but we’ll take it from here. Just lie low and tell your people the Americans said thanks.” Charles told her firmly, hoping she would take the message to Annette, wherever she was.

The woman seemed to take objection to his advice. “This is our city, we’re not just going to lie low!”

“Listen, the time for carrying messages back and forth is over. This is war!” Charles snapped, forgetting he was speaking to a stranger and thinking of Annette, somewhere in the ravaged streets. If only he had convinced her not to endanger herself while he had the chance!

The woman began to retort but the bartender stepped between them. “He’s right.” He told the woman calmly before turning back to Charles. “We have a large hidden weapons cache, Brigitte knows where.”

“Work with her Lieutenant.” Charles ordered. The Lieutenant looked a little too eager as he returned to Brigitte’s side.

While engaged in deep planning, everyone was suddenly alerted to loud movement behind the wall. Guns were immediately drawn and pointed at the suspicious area as a wall panel moved and a petite woman peered out of the small hole. “Hold your fire.” She said with calm coolness. The Resistance members instantly dropped their guns but Charles held his steady until he caught a glimpse of familiar blue eyes behind the unknown woman. Thank God she’s alive! He thought gratefully as relief washed over him.

“Katrine, you survived. We had believed you were killed when Nazi headquarters exploded.” The bartender said.

“Still here.” The Captain said as she climbed out, going with the flow.

As Seven began to also climb out she saw Lieutenant Torres staring at the tunnel. “What is that, some sort of escape tunnel?”

Standing up and pulling the bag of guns and explosives out of the tunnel Seven replied, “That’s precisely what it is.”

Commander Chakotay, wearing a strange uniform, stepped forward, looking at the Captain. “You’re the leader of the Resistance?” Although the Captain answered in the affirmative Seven had the distinct impression he already knew the answer as he spoke again, his voice directed at the Captain but she could feel his eyes focused on her with an expression she hadn’t seen before on anyone’s face, it was questioning but relief filled and pleading at the same time. Despite herself she felt a shiver run up her back as he spoke. “If you were in the headquarters, did you see the compound? Military intelligence thinks it’s a munitions compound.”

Seven could practically see the wheels of the Captain’s brain turning as she responded. “A munitions compound, it certainly is. More advanced than anything you’ve seen.”

The Commander tensed, “I’ll call in the RAF…”

“No! You can’t! There are enough experimental explosives in there to destroy this entire valley! I have an easier way.” The Captain pressed her amnesiac First Officer.

“Such as?” Said the Commander dryly.

“I have a man inside. If some of your troops can distract the Germans I can get in.” The Captain said with a great deal of conviction. Seven saw the Commander study the Captain for a moment before his eyes shifted once again to her, this time definitely asking for her confirmation and support. Confusion ruled over Seven’s head, she had to be wrong. Why would he trust _her_ over the Captain, amnesiac or not? Her gut feeling was confirmed when she took a chance and met his gaze, nodding discreetly and he instantly relaxed.

“Where’s C Company? Get them on the horn.” The Commander ordered to Lieutenant Paris.

The Captain drew Seven aside and murmured, “Even if I do manage to disable the transceivers, we’re not going to get very far with these weapons.”

“I believe I can improve them, _if_ I can get to Cargo Bay 2.” Seven replied in the same tone.

“Do it. Seven…if I fail only you will know what’s going on…”

“Understood Captain.” Said Seven cutting her off just as Tuvok approached the Captain and she felt a hand on her on shoulder, the Commander’s soft deep voice unnervingly close to her ear.

“I can see why you and Katrine butt heads.” He commented wryly, a gentle smile playing across his lips. Seven gazed up at him in surprise but couldn’t rebuke the comment, The Captain and she would probably argue in any reality, so she just nodded dumbly and let him pull her aside where his face became more serious. “Can I really trust her on this Annette?” He asked, his eyes burning into her.

Annette? That must have been her designation in this programme, why had their characters been so seemingly intertwined? His gaze was so unnerving, so strangely captivating, she should just answer the question and leave. “Of course you can trust Katrine…” Her eyes wavered down to the badge that had his name, “…Captain Miller.”

His eyes flickered with hurt, perhaps she had gotten his name wrong? “Captain Miller is it now? If I had known you were in that building I never would have fired on it…”

Without thinking she murmured, “I know…” but she had had no idea why she was so certain and felt the need to explain. “Your mission is to kill Nazis not French Resistance…”

“And we’re going to succeed in our mission believe me okay?”

“I…I…believe you.” Her voice suddenly came out as a nervous stutter.

His fingers traced the line of her chin and although bemused Seven didn’t flinch. “Good…” The whisper was the last thing she was aware of before her mind went totally blank with shock as he kissed her, his arm tight round her back. Blood rushed to her ears and her stomach did a strange flip but she couldn’t push him away, in fact for a second or two she fully responded before he not she pulled back. Breathless, she couldn’t look in his eyes as he murmured, “Keep your promise and stay alive my love.”

My love? My love? Her mind raced along with her heart, she hadn’t though this could get any more surreal than the Captain almost killing her and yet this interaction by contrast had felt pleasurable… No, she had just taken an advantage of a senior officer while he wasn’t in his right mind, she had no right to think things like that! As the Commander turned away to converse with the Captain, who thankfully hadn’t seemed to notice their exchange, she struggled to think back but her mind hit a brick wall, she couldn’t remember anything before the Doctor woke her. This will be irrelevant when he wakes up, there will be no memory for either of you! Her mind attempted to reassure her but as she saw the Commander disappear into the tunnel with the Captain she felt a twinge of jealousy that she wasn’t going. Deeply disturbed by the irrational inclination of her thoughts she rubbed the back of her hand over her still fiercely tingling lips and made her way to the Cargo Bay with the guns.


	4. Chapter 4

Seven crawled back through the Jeffries tube dragging the bag of supplies from Cargo Bay 2 along with her. She paused to rest her throbbing knees just as Tuvok, still in the mindset of a twentieth century human, peered at her through the access panel. “Where have you been?” he asked in a distinctly accusatory tone, though perhaps for a good reason, Seven admitted to herself as the sound of weapons fire made itself known.

Trying to appear nonchalant she shoved the bag of weapons through first before standing up. “Gathering supplies.” She answered him bluntly when he continued to frown at her.

Suspicious he pulled out a phase enhancer and examined it. “What is this?”

“German technology.” She replied quickly, using the excuse she’d heard the Captain, who seemed to be well versed in twentieth century terminology, use earlier. He looked about to argue but just then an explosion reverberated excruciatingly close and he seemed to decide any help, even hers, was better than none and turned to help Tom and B’Elanna who were strategically firing at the holograms and Hirogen fighters who surrounded the building. Suddenly their three faces creased with pain, their bodies buckled over and Seven realised from their abruptly confused expressions that the Captain had succeeded in deactivating the neuro interfaces. In her most commanding tone, over the sound of shattering glass, she shouted to them, “We are under attack in the holodeck. We must…” Before she could explain any further a flood of Hirogens and holograms flowed into the building and before she knew what was happening she was on her knees, once again at the wrong end of a gun barrel.

The lead Hirogen stepped forward once the room and been cleared and his four captives neutralised, tapping the comm. system at his wrist. “I have cornered four Voyager prey, their neuro interfaces have been deactivated, I will eliminate them.”

A forceful voice echoed through. “No! They are to be kept as hostages, is that understood?”

The Hirogen’s face wavered for a moment before falling back into stoicism. “Understood.” He uttered a dissatisfied grunt and pulled Tuvok to his feet. “Seal up that access panel.” He ordered.

As Tuvok moved to do so Tom’s eyes swept over B’Elanna’s radically altered figure before turning to Seven. “What do you think, boy or girl?”

“It is a holographic projection.” Seven told him with sharp irritation, wondering for a moment if it would have been more sensible to keep him in his holographic persona.

“It’s a realistic one, I feel twenty kilos heavier, it even kicks.” B’Elanna said, shifting about uncomfortably as Tuvok returned to them.

A sneering hologram made himself known above B’Elanna. “I should have known, with your flirtatious tempting ways, I don’t know what I saw in you.”

“I don’t know what _I_ was thinking.” B’Elanna retorted, earning a sharp slap across the face. Angrily Tom launched himself at the man but Tuvok held him back, changing the subject as the hologram walked back to the Hirogen.

“I do not recognise this programme.” Tuvok said as Tom struggled to calm down.

“I do, we’re in World War II, fighting Nazis.” Tom said.

“Nazis?” Seven asked, knowing that she’d need to familiarise herself with the situation quickly.

“A totalitarian dictatorship intent on taking over the world, the Borg of their day…” As he said this he remembered who he was talking to and tagged on a quick “No offence.”

“None taken.” Seven replied just as the Hirogen approached her.

“Sing.” He ordered.

Seven felt a shudder run up her back along with a slight sense of déjà vu but met his eyes with her own steely pair. “I will not.”

“Sing or you will die.” He threatened.

Her back tensed as she made her decision. “Then I will die.”

“Seven, you are a valued member of this crew. The logical step would be to grant the request.” Tuvok reasoned.

Seven turned to him with a set face. “Logic is irrelevant.” She responded before shooting the Hirogen an icy glare and addressed him with angry contempt. “When the Borg assimilate your species, which they will despite your arrogance, remember me.”

He appeared ready to kill her but his comm. system blared into life. “All hunters stand down; Captain Janeway and I have come to an agreement.”

“Sir…” The Hirogen began but Janeway’s voice cut him off.

“We have called a ceasefire; both sides are to stand down.”

“Captain…” Tuvok started questioningly but once again the Captain interrupted.

“Tuvok, I want you to find Chakotay and tell him to get his forces to stand down, is that understood?”

“Yes Captain.” He replied and Seven, Tom and B’Elanna found themselves nodding in silent agreement, before in a rather surreal turn of events they walked unharmed past the soldiers who had been about to kill them minutes before.

* * *

 

Chakotay leaned over the radio, he had previously only seen in childhood history lectures, counter intuitively ordering his men, or rather his holographic persona’s men, to fall back. At his side Tuvok looked uneasy. “Do you think they will obey your orders?” he asked.

“They will, I’m their commanding officer remember?” Chakotay replied, suppressing his own doubts. Kathryn’s plan was holding water so far, unorthodox as it was, he’d only been aware of the situation for maybe twenty minutes at most so who was he to judge? Despite this thought he checked the safety on his handgun was off and apprehensively cast his eye down the hill where Tom, B’Elanna and Seven were herding up the American stragglers.

“Come on move before you get some lead in your pants!” Tom shouted at the holograms. Beside him Seven gave him a strange look.

“You’re engaging in mid-twentieth century slang, for what purpose?”

“Just getting in the sprit of things sister.” He replied jokingly.

“You’re enjoying this simulation?” Seven asked incredulously. At his nod she muttered in irritated disbelief, “I find that peculiar considering the current situation…”

He smiled teasingly at her, “Come on baby doll loosen up, the war’s almost over!” As soon as this statement left his mouth the unmistakable sound of gunfire began again.

“Someone broke the ceasefire!” B’Elanna shouted from behind them and with that the eye of the storm passed and all hell broke loose once more.

For the second time in as many hours they found themselves surrounded, although this time they were protected not by a building but by some disturbingly flimsy sandbags. “We’re losing ground!” Tom shouted to Chakotay as he fired off another rifle round.

“Perhaps it would be prudent to fall further back.” Tuvok recommended.

“Where to?” Chakotay answered. “We have nowhere else to go!” He sent another order down the now battered radio before his eyes found Seven kneeling over a bewildering mix of technology. Leaving his post he knelt down beside her, “How’s it going?” he asked, revealing more anxiety than he’d intended.

“I am enhancing this weapon to emit a proton burst; it should be harmless to all organic tissue but deactivate all holographic projections within twenty metres.”

“Good, keep at it.” He told her quickly before returning to his post, but he kept inexplicably checking on her, for some reason unusually worried about her, though he couldn’t pinpoint the reason for the feeling. Finally Seven heard the last piece of her device click into place and scanned the area for a place to set it, her heart sinking as she did so. For it to have any other effect than dematerialising their own weapons and men she’d need to set it in the firing line, well beyond what cover their little outpost could offer her. For some reason her eyes sought out Chakotay for a moment before she picked up the device, hopped over the sandbags and sprinted forward into enemy fire. Chakotay felt a shiver run up his back and then in horror saw Seven on her crusade. “Seven!” he shouted in fear and panic as he saw her kneeling over the device and a grenade being lobbed in her direction. Without thinking of the consequences he himself ran out and threw himself on top of her, knocking over the device but protecting them both from the blast of the grenade. Recovering quickly he sat up to look at her, her head turned sideways, slightly stunned from his weight forcing her head to the pavement. In a sudden burst of fear filled anger he seized her shoulders, “What the _hell_ do you think you were doing?” He shouted, despite realising his own behaviour was deeply irrational. Seven looked at him, a confused blush diffusing her features, though whether at his strangely passionate rebuke or the physical entanglement they found themselves in on the ground she wasn’t sure. Chakotay picked up on the blush and felt his senses return to him. “Are you alright?” he asked breathlessly but with his expression towards her back to normal. She nodded silently then he felt her freeze as she saw something behind him and he was suddenly aware of a gun pressing against his head.

“Surrender.” That single word reverberated like a bomb through both their brains.

* * *

 

They were led like animals to a wall and forced to line up against it, the sneering hologram from the restaurant stepped forward, gun at the ready. “Your deaths will prolong the glory of the Reich…” he began to intone but the weight of a Klingon batlef, in the hands of Neelix no less, brought him tumbling to the ground.

Neelix beamed in relief at his stunned crewmates just as the Doctor popped up behind him. “Need some help?” The Doctor asked sarcastically as he untied them while gamely throwing off the holograms attempted assaults.

“I should think so!” B’Elanna replied as they all threw themselves into hand to hand combat. Then just as they were once again beginning to struggle against superior numbers there was an abrupt sparking sound and the seven of them found themselves standing within the grey soulless walls of an inoperative holodeck.

They all fell into a stunned silence, exchanging unbelieving, relieved looks before Chakotay brushed himself off and took charge. “It’s over. Let’s go.”

* * *

 

“Now I know it’s been over a week since you were all freed from your neuro interfaces but ii want you to know that any strange dreams, flashbacks or lingering pain _will_ fade. It’s all par for the course when you’ve had your brain chemistry altered and been through such trauma.” The Doctor told the gathering of the entire crew in the mess hall and the Captain touched his arm before stepping forward herself.

“Thank you Doctor. As always anyone is free to talk about their experiences but I’m proud of how you’ve all coped and how hard we’re working together to get the ship back on track. Lecture over, now go back to work.”

“But Captain I made nibbles for everyone!” Neelix interjected.

The Captain inclined her head with a smile. “Help yourselves.” Some of the crew moved forward towards the trays Neelix had set out but Seven stayed seated where she was, thinking. No, she hadn’t experienced any flashbacks whatsoever, she didn’t think she was particularly traumatised either although it _was_ disconcerting to have a full three week gap in your memory to say the least. The presence of the Commander nearby, reiterating to Neelix that he wasn’t hungry did unsettle her however. What if he remembered he had kissed her and she hadn’t even had the decency to resist? Humans set great importance to such interactions, not only would it be humiliating but it would also endanger their perfectly functional working relationship! He hadn’t brought it up and it was irrelevant to her so… “Seven, I know you’ve been working back to back shifts but B’Elanna needs some help with the plasma conduits…” The voice made her head snap up to meet the speaker and she fought a blush when she realised it was the Commander himself and she stood up hurriedly, almost falling back as a dizzy spell hit her hard. The Commander’s quick reaction in grabbing her arm was the only thing that kept her upright. “Hey, are you okay?” he asked in concern.

Seven paused for a moment to recover before speaking. “Yes I…”

“You work too hard Seven.” Neelix commented in concern. “You need to eat something…” He waved a platter in front of her, “Ktarian fishcakes maybe?” Seven recoiled at the unbearable smell, unable to speak as she swallowed back bile, she could only shake her head and a disappointed Neelix walked away but Chakotay kept looking at her.

“Maybe the Doctor should take a look at you?” he asked.

“No, it’s nothing…I haven’t been regenerating much that’s all…”

“Don’t want him to make a fuss?” Chakotay said knowingly and Seven allowed herself a sheepish smile in return. “Listen, you don’t have to do what I was talking about. Go to the Cargo Bay for a break if you want.”

“Thank you Commander.” She murmured quietly, ashamed of her weakness.

“No problem.” He replied with a smile before taking his leave. Seven leaned against the wall to steady herself. She hadn’t been regenerating much but she’d done that before and it had never previously manifested itself in the nausea and dizziness she’d been experiencing over the last three days. Quickly she ran through her medical knowledge, perhaps she had developed anaemia? Her diet on the holodecks probably hadn’t fulfilled her nutritional needs, if it was iron she needed maybe Neelix’s food was not such a bad idea. The very thought made her nausea reassert itself with a vengeance and she dismissed the idea on the spot and began her walk to the Cargo Bay, a full regeneration cycle would most likely solve the problem.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the purposes of this story, the episode 'Drone' happened before 'The Killing Game' two-parter.

Seven’s starved lungs finally managed to gulp in oxygen as she rocked back into a sitting position from where she’d spent the last twenty minutes crippled with vomiting in the bathroom next door to Astrometrics. Gazing dizzily at her shaking hands as she struggled to calm her still churning but now empty stomach she considered her options. She _could_ continue to ignore it as she had for the past week but since it had developed from a little nausea into full scale sickness she doubted that was possible or she could consult the Doctor. She winced at the thought, he’d probably diagnose her with the Tavarian flu which had been ravaging the weakened crew in the fifteen days since the Hirogens had departed and that would mean at least three days of medical leave and strong medication, a serious dent in her drive for efficiency! With a weak sigh of resignation she rose, leaning heavily on the toilet bowl for support, but still wobbled unsteadily on her high heels as blurry coloured circles teased her vision. Forcing herself to drink water from the tap in order to soothe her acid burned throat she thought again. No, it couldn’t be Tavarian flu, her nanoprobes would have eliminated such a virus before it took hold this severely, one of her digestive implants must be malfunctioning… Irritated by this uncertainty and the disruption to her work schedule she hurriedly splashed water over her face in an attempt at refreshment and headed to the door. May as well get it over with, she thought tiredly as she headed to Sickbay.

* * *

 

“Drink plenty of fluids, rest up in bed and avoid the rest of the crew, Tavarian flu is contagious.” The Doctor told Crewman Kennedy calmly.

“Can’t you give me something Doctor, it’s hell of a…” Kennedy complained.

“You’re no different than all the other fifty two cases Crewman, it’s a virus and all viruses come to an end.”

“Thanks…” muttered Kennedy, in a distinctly ungrateful tone and left. The Doctor harrumphed; he obviously would need to start classes in medical appreciation. At least he was alone for now. Just as this thought was running through his head the doors once again slid open and he turned to see Seven, a much more welcome visitor. “Seven! I’m sorry I have arranged a maintenance check for you since the Hirogen left; I’ve been run off my feet with this flu epidemic. I can do it now if you have time.”

Seven gave a stilted nod and he noticed for the first time that she was unusually pale and peaked looking. “Yes Doctor, I believe I am malfunctioning.”

“Okay…” He lifted his tricorder off the diagnostic tray. “What are your symptoms?”

Seven swallowed slightly before reeling off what she had been experiencing. “Nausea, vomiting, dizziness, lack of appetite…”

“Temperature?” he asked.

“No.” She answered as he began to run the tricorder over her, everything appeared normal until the Doctor paled and gulped repeatedly, when he ran the scan again his face darkened further. “What is it?” she asked nervously when he remained ominously silent. “Doctor…”

He glared at her in angered anguish. “How could you have been so _stupid_? If you’d told me you had someone, there’s ways to prevent this…”

She stared at him blankly but with fear in her eyes. “Prevent what?”

He was frightened by her naivety. “What do you think? Getting pregnant!”

A panicky laugh left her throat. “That’s impossi…” She couldn’t end her explanation as for some reason the memory of the Commander’s holographic persona kissing her forced its way into her brain along with horrifying realisation and her legs buckled beneath her as she fainted.

* * *

 

The next thing she was conscious of was the cold hard surface of a biobed against her back, then the Doctor glaring anxiously down at her. “Who is it? Harry Kim?” She just stared up at him in denial and he began to pace round Sickbay. “Please God, not Tom Paris! Surely you have better taste than that…”

Seven sat up abruptly in anger, ignoring a dizzy spell as she did so. “What are you insinuating? I’m not pregnant! It’s impossible!”

Infuriated by her continual denial he slammed a tricorder and a vial of blood taken while she was unconscious down beside her. “Tricorders and blood results don’t lie! You’re two and half weeks pregnant!”

She flashed her most violent Borg gaze at him. “To get pregnant you have to conduct conjugal relations and I never have! I think I’d remember…”

They both fell silent as the significance of her last statement sunk in. The Doctor quickly did the maths in his head. “You…you conceived in the holodecks…that’s why you don’t remember…” He ran another scan. “Completely human!” He choked in relief, “At least a Hirogen didn’t force himself on you…”

An uncontrollable sob bubbled in Seven’s throat. “As far as we know!” she said shrilly.

The Doctor put a comforting hand on her arm, beginning to think that with Seven’s luck she must have been cursed at birth. “I’m sorry I spoke to you like that, I should have realised. I mean I saw the Captain and Tuvok all over each other at one point while I was treating you all, anything’s possible…” He glanced at her worriedly as she sat frozen with shock. “Look, we’ll terminate it now that I know the circumstances…that it wasn’t consensual…”

He didn’t get any further as Seven, her brain seriously overloaded, shouted into the air, “Computer deactivate EMH!” Within a second he was gone, she turned to the empty air with a sob before climbing off the biobed to get to his controls, hurriedly deleting the last twelve minutes of his memory files before she had a chance to feel guilty about doing so. “Computer…emergency transport…Cargo Bay 2…” The Computer thankfully obeyed her stuttering voice and she was suddenly in her cargo bay, where she curled up in a ball in the full grip of a panic attack.

She wasn’t sure how long she’d been lying there when she finally once again became aware of her surroundings. What am I going to do? Terminate it as the Doctor suggested? Even at she thought of it she mentally recoiled in revulsion, however it came about this was, or would be an individual and no matter how many times she rued it over, disgust at that option overrode the fear of the other. Well I can’t do nothing; I can’t delete this knowledge from _my_ brain. I’m allowing my instinctive desire to procreate to overtake my intelligence; I’ve never even _seen_ a human infant let alone cared for one… The sound of the Captain’s voice echoing from her comm. badge interrupted her frantic thoughts. “Seven, you’ve left Astrometrics and your shift isn’t over…”

Fighting the urge to hide away, she slowly tapped her comm. badge. “I’m coming Captain.”

The walk into Astrometrics was like a walk into a war zone, her anxiety was so intense. The sight of the Captain waiting for her was like approaching the Borg Queen and she stopped herself just in time from fearfully putting her hand to her abdomen, paranoid that her condition was obvious. “Seven, Harry picked up some unusual anomalies in Sector 1879.2, would you mind taking a look?”

“Of course not Captain.” She replied rather too quickly, practically running to the console.

The Captain laughed. “Glad to see enthusiasm!” she commented before much to Seven’s intense relief she left her alone.

* * *

 

She spent the rest of the day walking around in a fog. “Are you okay Seven?” Naomi Wildman’s voice suddenly broke through the barrier as she stood frozen in the middle of the Mess Hall.

She gazed down at her blankly for a moment; Naomi had been an unintended child hadn’t she? Her mother had coped admirably… She’s human! The Borg side of her brain reminded her. Once Naomi had only existed as an embryo too… “Seven?” Naomi asked again in concern.

Blinking away the tears that had suddenly formed she forced herself to respond. “I am fine Naomi Wildman.”

Naomi didn’t look fully convinced. “Okay…” She heard her mother’s shout across a room. “Mom’s calling, bye!”

Seven nodded and watched as Naomi was enveloped in her mother’s hug. It just wouldn’t be fair to be an inadequate Borg mother to a child… The image of One, the drone created by her and the Doctor’s transporter accident appeared in front of her eyes. No he was irrelevant; he had been a drone not a baby! Her throat tightened in sorrow, he had died for the ship and she had grieved for him truly, he had been a mistake also as this pregnancy was…

She now found herself assessing the human men in the room. What if it was Ensign Larson? He’d been careless enough to spill his glass of water all over the Astrometrics console; he wasn’t trustworthy with a baby… Tom Paris walked past her in deep conversation with B’Elanna, what if the Doctor’s worst case scenario had been right? No, she smiled at the couple, if he had impregnated anyone it would have been Lieutenant Torres, some things seemed to transude even amnesia. Good, that really would have been intolerable… Why are you denying it? You know who kissed you! She blushed deeply but couldn’t deny the possibility, that kiss had been far from chaste.

She left the Mess Hall and returned to the Cargo Bay, trying hard to rationalise her feelings. It would complicate things even further, she knew that much. Even with the limited attention she paid to Voyager’s active rumour mill she knew enough to realise that the Captain coveted the Commander in some way, though whether it was romantic in nature or part of some sort of hierarchical power struggle she had never been able to fully ascertain and the Captain, not her, would have the final say in what would happen. Exhausted she sank against the wall of the Cargo Bay and irrationally frightened about what effects regeneration would have, she wrapped herself up in a blanket and cried herself to unconsciousness.

* * *

 

“Annette!” Chakotay gasped out in his sleep before waking up fully with a jolt, coated in sweat, shaking his head vigorously to rid himself of the lingering images. Why would he dream about Seven? She’d been crying and he’d felt desperate to… To what? To comfort? He lay back down; he’d had plenty of recurring dreams in his life but none so vivid… Maybe the Hirogens had played around with his brain chemistry more than he’d thought…


	6. Chapter 6

Seven felt the blanket fall from her face as she shifted from her crumpled position on the cargo bay floor into a sitting position, her muscles screaming in complaint after so long on the cold unforgiving surface. Rubbing her hand listlessly over her eyes, irritated and inflamed from the copious amount of tears shed through the night, she checked her internal clock, 0400 hours, she couldn’t face the world outside just yet and still she could no longer contemplate being unoccupied. Using the logic that mental preparation was advisable she cautiously approached her console and began to consult every file in the ship’s database covering pregnancy, childbirth, infants and children. Two hours of intense study and a bout of morning sickness later fear at having no control whatsoever over the inevitable changes in her body overwhelmed her, the symptoms had kicked in so early and she had more than eight months to go, how could human evolution have devised the female of the species so inefficiently? She couldn’t even blame her own lust for the situation, at least if she’d actually taken a lover she would have had the comfort of the fact that a man felt affection for her but as it was…

Her nails dug into her palms as if trying to gouge out the self pity, after all what good would that do herself or her baby? She was unsettled that she’d referred to the embryo as _her_ baby for the first time; it somehow made everything more real. Yes, genetically it would be related to her, family, something humanity cherished but she had never known. A sudden vision of her parents before her brought loneliness crashing into her with all its cruel accuracy and tears came with it. Inhaling sharply to calm herself she realised one thing, to do this alone would be an extreme detriment to the child but what if the father’s rejection was total? She could hide the baby’s parentage… The image of a livid Captain seizing her newborn baby to run genetic testing against every man on board suddenly flooded her imagination, how humiliating! No, this man, as blameless yet as responsible as she, deserved at least complete honesty. She resolved to go to the holodeck and run through the records until she saw collaborating evidence but her legs wouldn’t obey her, she couldn’t face that alone, she must tell someone. The Commander’s face floated around her brain but she forced it out. Why was she so fixated on him? A kiss doesn’t get a woman pregnant! Her overwrought brain raged. It is a precursor though, the more practical side of her brain reminded her, and you know it was probably in the World War II simulation that you conceived… Well, she reasoned, even if he isn’t the father by telling him I will have gained a trustworthy and indifferent advisor, he hasn’t invested effort in my development as the Captain and the Doctor have. With a final attempt at a strengthening sigh she left the cargo bay.

* * *

 

Chakotay lifted his habitual cup of tea from his office replicator, hoping it would make up for his disturbed sleep of the night before as he sank into his comfortable chair, stretching the stiffness from his legs as he did so. Suddenly a nervy single ring of his doorbell made him jump, a little early for reports wasn’t it? “Enter!” he called. The doors obligingly slid silently open to reveal Seven of Nine but she didn’t step over the threshold. Surprised at this hovering in such a normally decisive woman he looked at her. “Come in.” he told her with soft encouragement. She bowed her head, keeping it low as she strode to his desk. “Is it about the weekly staff allocations?” he questioned, though she had never bothered with them before.

Her head shot up like a startled racehorse before settling into her shoulders. “No…” She started, biting her lip nervously in a very un Seven like manner before continuing, “You are the ship’s counsellor are you not?”

“Unofficially.” He replied, intrigued. “Why? Do you need to talk about something?” She nodded mutely. “You don’t feel you can speak to the Captain or the Doctor?” He realised immediately the dismissive unconcern in this question and felt guilty, just because she had never sought him out before didn’t mean she didn’t have as much right to his attention as anyone else on this ship.

The violence of her reaction confirmed his fears. She stepped back so rapidly that she overbalanced and had to steady herself as she cried out, “No!”

It was at that point he noticed her red, shimmering eyes and the dream of the night before came back to him, had she been crying in real life too? This thought made his heart twinge strongly and curiosity became real concern. “Seven…have you been crying?” he asked unable to keep the disbelief from his tone. He was shocked as she gave a single heavy and ashamed nod and he rose slowly from his seat. “You can tell me anything, it’ll stay between us I promise, okay?” She nodded again before sinking abruptly into his small couch in the corner, her head bent over her knees, hands clenched in her lap.

They sat in silence as she visibly prepared herself and then bluntly, though her voice was thick with tears, “I’m…I’m pregnant.”

She could fell his eyes burning into her as he processed this information. Finally, “Are…are you sure?” She felt a hybrid between a sob and a resigned laugh leave her lips in response and saw him set his shoulders backs in thought out of the corner of her eye. “Have you told the father?”

“I can’t…”she choked out and suddenly he was out of his chair, standing above her.

“Of course you can, you must. These things take two and you must both accept that.” Shame made her head drop even lower, impulsively he grabbed her hand and murmured, looking into her face, “Listen, if you’re scared I’ll come with you and we can both talk to him…”

“That’s impossible…I don’t know who he is, I don’t remember.” He stared at her in confusion and she continued, “I’m two weeks five days pregnant, I was in the Hirogen simulations, I can recall nothing of what my personas did.”

Chakotay gulped hard, sympathy for her overwhelming him. “So you…” he blushed deeply despite himself. “You don’t remember…”

“My child’s conception?” she finished to spare his blushes. “No, I can recall nothing.”

He put his head in his hands for a moment, breathing heavily as his mind struggled to function. “Well, I think…”

She interrupted him; eyes flashing menacingly even through the tears. “I am fully aware that the child may…suffer with me as it’s mother, but even though I wasn’t a active participant in it’s conception it’s still _mine_. Therefore it is my duty to protect it, I’ve…I’ve already killed and assimilated enough children in my lifetime…”

“Wait, I not suggesting you get an abortion! All I was going to say was that we need to go through holographic records to be sure…”

She exhaled as if she’d just been given a reprieve and Chakotay felt his respect for her increase a hundred fold, he had obviously done her a horrible injustice in believing her completely unfeeling, in fact it was quite the opposite. “Good, thank you Commander.” She mumbled.

He gave her hand a squeeze of solidarity. “I’m just glad you told someone.” He rose off his knees. “Let’s go look at the records.” She didn’t move, hands twisting in her lap. “What?” he asked.

She looked into his face. “Please don’t panic Commander; it may prove to be irrelevant but…when I was aware of my identity and you weren’t…you kissed me.” She stood as his eyes froze, she could hear the audible gulp emanating from his throat.

Eventually he seemed to come out of it. “Thanks…thanks for the warning…” He met her equally frightened gaze for a moment and sighed. “Let’s go.” He said firmly. Seven felt admiration for him fill her, if the kiss was relevant at least her child would inherit good character from one parent.


End file.
